A wild, improbable suspicion had come to his mind, so improbable, so wild, that he felt ashamed to dwell on it. The likeness was familiar; so unlike, and yet so strangely like, that Dick hardly knew what to believe.
“Poor devil! Why should I allow a chance resemblance to make me accuse him of a thing so bad as that. He has enough to bear and answer for now, yet—yet—But it’s too wild, too improbable. I’ll forget it, I’ll dismiss the thought from my mind; the messenger was surely mistaken, and I’ll devote my evening to seeing about Maggie’s sister. Here’s to an evening free from all thoughts of that dead girl. And yet—it’s very strange—I half believe”—Then, shrugging his shoulders, Dick impatiently drained his glass and started for Washington Square.
CHAPTER XIV.
“GIVE ME UNTIL TO-MORROW.”
As Richard was early, he stopped for a moment to see Dido Morgan, and finding her ready to start home, asked her to walk a little way with him down Fifth Avenue.
She was looking quite wan when he went in, but she brightened up and flushed with pleasure at the prospect of seeing him for a little time.
“I had an offer from a manager to-day to go on the stage,” she said, quietly.
“I hope you did not accept it,” Dick replied, quickly, looking at the girl’s downcast face, which seemed strangely altered since last night.
“Not yet.”
“And you won’t, Dido?” he said, pleadingly.
“I don’t see why not, Mr. Treadwell.”